


Omicron Pod

by newsbypostcard



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First five-year mission, M/M, rewriting tos canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsbypostcard/pseuds/newsbypostcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reboot edition of TOS episode "This Side of Paradise": <em>They’d barely been on the surface of the desolate Omicron Ceti III for five minutes before Sulu had been frantically running toward the plant Spock was examining, shouting “NO NO NO NO” and pushing him aside -- only to have it ejaculate very suddenly in Sulu’s face.</em> Soon the entire Enterprise crew and personnel is inexplicably under the influence of some strange toxin, and it's up to Jim and Spock -- scratch that, Jim and Uhura -- scratch that again, Jim and Bones -- <em>damnit, then, just Jim</em> -- to get the crew back on track before there's no one left to keep the Enterprise moving forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Omicron Pod

They’d barely been on the surface of the desolate Omicron Ceti III for five minutes before Sulu had been frantically running toward the plant Spock was examining, shouting “NO NO NO NO” and pushing him aside -- only to have it ejaculate very suddenly in Sulu’s face.

“Whoa,” Jim muttered, frowning after it. Sulu blinked dazedly and shook the substance off his face. “You all right, Mister Sulu?”

“This is not good,” Sulu muttered distantly. “Captain, you need to … we need to …”

“Need to do what, Lieutenant?” Jim asked, pawing at Sulu’s shoulders to brush away the last of the pollen or whatever that had exploded all over him.

“Um,” Sulu offered. His distant smile struck Jim as mildly unnerving. “We need to take this plant aboard the Enterprise, sir. I think I know what it is. It has tremendous potential.” He nodded fervently. “For _goodness_.”

Spock tilted his head. “Lieutenant, just moments ago you suggested that the plant was, in fact, _not_ good. It sounded as though you were shouting ‘no’ repeatedly as you approached.”

“Was I?” Sulu gave a broad grin. “My apologies. I was not feeling like myself earlier. Dizzy and dazed, ever since we landed on the planet. I’m feeling much better now.” He examined the plant fondly. “See? It’s a _good plant_.”

Spock gave Jim a sidelong glance, but Jim brushed it off. “What sort of good are we talking about, Mister Sulu?”

“Medicinal good,” Sulu replied enthusiastically. “If I’m right, this plant has immense healing potential. Immense! I strongly suggest working with sick bay to ascertain if my hypothesis is correct.”

Jim nodded curtly. “All right, Sulu, you have my go-ahead; but do me a favour and have Doctor McCoy check you out upon your arrival at sickbay. I don’t want you to be carrying some planetary virus without our knowledge.”

Sulu saluted Kirk cheerfully and set about his work. Spock, meanwhile, pulled Jim aside.

“Captain, I may be mistaken, but Lieutenant Sulu seems far more … cheerful than usual.”

“Hardly a complaint for the mission log,” Jim replied, faintly incredulous that Spock found this worthy of report. “Maybe he’s just getting some, Spock.”

Spock frowned as he processed the colloquialism, and then nodded primly as he realized what Jim was talking about. “Perhaps,” said Spock; but his tone denoted suspended disbelief.

And as Sulu went about digging the plant out of the ground and into a portable receptacle, Jim did notice that he was more enthusiastic than usual, whistling shrilly and greeting passerby with an astounding warmth that Sulu didn’t usually offer. When Jim caught his gaze several seconds later, Jim noted that his eyes were glassy; and he called ahead to Bones to ask him to run toxicology tests along with the viral loads.

It was four hours later when Bones comm’d him back to tell him that all tests had shown up negative, and that Sulu was in fact in _perfect_ health, with no indication of anything having _ever_ been wrong with him, at all, in his life. All was well, Bones reported; and Jim should stop worrying.

Jim stared at the comm message for a long time, feeling vague unease for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint. He was unsure, for example, why Bones had sent him a message rather than spoken with him directly as was usual; but the tests being performed to determine the planet’s potential for settlement required his attention, and the distant objection eventually fell away from his thought process.

\-----

Back on the ship, the crew _had_ struck Jim as oddly giggly, now that Spock mentioned it.

He immediately scolded himself for spending too much time with Spock, and with Bones for that matter. He refused to find cheerfulness out of the ordinary. It was a beautiful day spent on a beautiful planet, and everyone was riding the according endorphins. End of story.

\-----

Scotty had been among the first to resign.

It had been tough to tell, at first, what was happening. Scotty was adequately enthusiastic the majority of the time that his initial keenness to describe to Jim the patterning of the stars and the design of Omicron’s oceans and continents as they appeared on the Bridge’s main display didn’t initially strike Jim as out of the ordinary.

“What can I help you with, Mister Scott?” Jim asked him once the describing had gotten out of hand.

“Oh, nothing, Captain,” Scotty offered lightly. “I just wanted to look at something beautiful and organic for a wee spell.”

“Well that’s fantastic. Now, having done so, would you care to either stop describing everything you see or else return to Engineering?”

There was a brief pause, and then -- “Nah.”

Jim blinked and processed the syllable for a moment before turning in his chair to look at Scotty more thoroughly. “‘Nah’, Mister Scott?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Scotty reiterated, nodding thoughtfully. “Nah.” He grinned broadly at Jim, who regarded him with suspicion.

“Are you feeling all right, Scotty?”

“Never better, Captain,” he replied easily. “I just don’t want to work anymore.” He shrugged. “I’m done with working. Never working again. I’d much rather retire early so that I can enjoy the simple pleasures of life without being weighed down by such pesky realities as old age and compromised joint function.”

Jim squinted at Scotty before shifting his gaze to exchange a glance with Spock, whose expression also denoted concern. “Are you here to resign?” Jim asked slowly.

“I believe I just did resign, Captain,” Scotty offered distractedly.

“And your next step is to … do what?”

“That’s the beautiful thing, isn’t it?” Scotty looked at Jim with intense interest. “ _Nothing!_ I can do whatever I like now,” he explained, face still split open into a broad grin. “And at this moment I intend to check out the party down in sickbay. Have you heard about it? It sounds quite exciting.”

Jim continued to squint at Scotty in confusion. “Mister Spock, would you hail security and have them make sure Mister Scott makes it to sickbay all right?”

“With respect, Captain, I’d rather take him there myself,” Spock replied. “Scotty’s behavior seems remarkably similar to that of Mister Sulu. He does not seem dangerous. In the event there is some sort of pattern recurring, I would like to discuss with Medical what the commonalities seem to be.”

Jim nodded curtly. “So be it, Mister Spock. Let us know what you find.”

Spock had nodded and grabbed Scotty’s arm as he strode fluidly from the Bridge. It was a matter of minutes before Spock had hailed the Bridge back.

“I fear the situation is considerably worse than we had initially hypothesized,” Spock informed him. “Sickbay is currently housing nearly three dozen other crew members displaying the same, erm, uncharacteristic serenity as Lieutenant Sulu and Commander Scott.”

Jim swore quietly under his breath. “Is there anything pointing to a cause, Spock?”

“Not as yet, Captain,” Spock replied, “but Nurse Chapel is tending to the plant Sulu brought aboard the Enterprise in an attempt to ascertain whether it does indeed hold any medicinal properties. If the infection originated on the planet, and if Lieutenant Sulu was correct about the plant’s potential, then the flower may offer an anecdote of some kind.”

“Noted. Does Doctor McCoy have any insights as to what’s causing these symptoms?”

Spock paused. “Doctor McCoy has not emerged from his office. He appears not to wish to be disturbed.”

Jim frowned. “That’s odd. I’ll see if I can hail him. Standby for his assistance. Kirk ou--”

“There’s something else, Captain,” Spock interrupted.

“Oh?”

“The crew members. They’re … socializing.”

“Socializing.”

“Yes. They appear to get along very well with one another based on their common … ailment.” He paused, and Jim felt Spock’s discomfort from the Bridge. “If one could truly call it an ailment. None of the crew members seem harmed in any way; the most commonly reported symptom appears to be a feeling of peace and tranquility that brought them each to try to quit their posts because, quote, ‘work is too stressful’. This does not appear to be an illness in the traditional sense, but there is no doubt there are commonalities among its sufferers.”

“So noted. See what you can find out. Report back to the Bridge as soon as you are able.”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock provided, and closed the channel.

Jim tried Bones only to have the hail run without response. The computer located Bones easily in his office, so Jim knew he was there; he only assumed he was running trials on whatever was happening to the crew and was too deep into his work to respond.

Unable to shake a sense of mounting unease, Jim briefly retired to his ready room and reviewed the emergency response protocols for shipwide endemic. He hoped to hell it wouldn’t come to that, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

\-----

Jim issued a blanket order for all resigning personnel to report to sickbay immediately after receiving the vague reports from senior officers in various sections; and it didn’t take long for this order to sit ill at ease with him, too. There was something he was missing here, and he wasn’t sure he had the right solutions to the problem he was facing. Which was … what again? Excessive relaxation spurning resignations from a high-stress job? Did Jim really find that such a surprising pattern?

Yes. Yes he did. His crew wouldn’t leave the Enterprise on a whim. This was not mutiny.

It wasn’t.

\-----

Nearly an hour later, Spock returned to the Bridge at last ... with … a spring in his step.

Jim turned the captain’s chair slowly to watch Spock’s jaunt as he made his way to his station. “Spock?”

“Everything is just fine down there, Captain,” Spock replied dreamily. “You should go and see for yourself. It is _quite_ fascinating.”

Jim blinked, stared, and cleared his throat. “Spock, any further developments on what might be causing the behavioral changes in our crew members?”

“Oh, no, Captain,” Spock gushed. “Everything seems just _fine_. In fact, I do not think we need to worry about the crew’s behavior any more at all. Whatever is happening in sickbay seems _perfectly_ logical.”

Uhura was turning in her chair behind him, and Kirk swiveled over to exchange a glance with her. “Commander Spock,” Uhura offered lightly, “if you’re not busy, I’d like your assistance with some of the readings I’m getting from the planet’s surface. I think it might be a communication, but I can’t seem to decipher the method of transmission.”

Spock turned in his chair and beset his eyes upon Uhura with affection. “ _Nyota,_ ” he breathed, propping his chin against his arm rest with a loose fist. An enamoured grin spread slowly across his face. “I would be honoured to assist you, but I admit I fail to see the point. Wouldn’t you rather accompany me to the recreation room? We can display a hologram of one of those old-world Earth films you enjoy.”

Uhura’s expression was completely blank. “Captain, may I speak to you aside for a moment?”

“Nyota, have I told you yet today how profound my affection is for you?” Spock crooned.

“Yes, I think that’s appropriate,” Jim clipped abruptly, launching out of his chair to meet Uhura as they strode into his ready room.

“He’s infected,” she said immediately as the door fizzed shut behind them.

“You don’t say,” Kirk replied, sighing heavily. “We don’t know what this thing does to Vulcans.”

“Apparently it turns them into big romantic softies.” Her expression reflected discomfort.

Jim gave a half-smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to just take a few hours to enjoy this?”

“Yes, Jim, I’m actually with Spock for his emotional availability, so this is totally something I know how to deal with,” she bit sarcastically. “No, this is weird. I don’t like it. And that feels like taking advantage, anyway.”

Jim nodded curtly. “Okay. What do you think we should do?”

“Is he going to be useful to you?”

“Doubtful. I don’t actually know what a compromised Vulcan is going to be like. I don’t feel good about him wandering around.” Jim smiled grimly. “I don’t feel right putting him in the brig either, though, and I’m not going to be able to coax him to sickbay.”

“I will,” Uhura promised. “Leave it to me.”

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “Watch yourself. If this keeps spreading, I’m going to need your assistance.”

Uhura nodded solemnly and set back out onto the Bridge ahead of Kirk, turning on the charm and sweetly asking Spock if he would join her in a stroll.

Jim collapsed back into the captain’s chair and pinched at his eyes as Spock grinned his way dreamily toward the lift. This was going to be a long day.

\-----

An hour later, Uhura had not returned.

Kirk sighed contemptuously. “Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant Uhura?”

“Lieutenant Uhura is in her quarters,” the computer intoned back.

Jim cursed and hit the button to hail. “Lieutenant Uhura!”

Giggling streamed back at him, and Jim hated everything. “ _Lieutenant, respond,_ ” he hissed, closing his eyes.

“Spock--” she said quietly.

“Ignore it,” came a far more gravelly version of Spock’s voice.

“Shh,” she giggled. “Shh, stop, it’s Kirk.”

“I do not care,” he mumbled.

Jim massaged his temple aggressively. “I heard that, Spock. Need I remind you that you’re both still on duty?”

“Whoops,” said Spock, his disregard apparent by his ironic use of the human phrase; Uhura laughed far longer than seemed appropriate. 

Jim noted that Chekov’s ears were turning red in front of him. “Control yourself, Commander. I assume sickbay did not go as intended.”

“Well, no,” Uhura said, then gave another quiet _stop it_ , presumably to Spock. “But I find I like this outcome _far_ better.”

“It was an illogical plan,” Spock reminded her, voice vaguely muffled.

“Mmm,” she half-sighed. “That’s true.”

“That’s not true at all,” Jim corrected compulsively. “You know what, you both do … whatever the hell it is you’re doing, _don’t_ tell me what it is, you’re no use to me anyway. When and if you come back to your senses, find me on the Bridge.” He disconnected the communication amidst a fresh spiel of Uhura’s giggles and allowed himself five seconds to toil before hailing sickbay. “Sickbay, what’s the--”

Kirk listened to what sounded like a very chatty cocktail party for fifteen seconds before realizing that no one was prepared to respond to his hail. He mouthed ‘perfectly logical’ bitterly to himself before disconnecting. Then he tried to hail Bones to no avail; the same busy chatter was the only response. Jim pounded at the disconnected button and pinched at his nose. “Chekov?” he began with exasperation.

Chekov turned in his chair with an expression of total alarm. “Please, sir, do not send me to sickbay.”

Kirk stared, and finally nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’ll go myself. Spo -- Su -- someone, goddamnit, someone sane take the conn.” He spun out of his chair and toward the lift, bracing himself for the worst.

\-----

Jim had predicted right: Sickbay was an actual cocktail party.

And Bones was the bartender.

“Jim boy!” he shouted loudly upon spotting Jim, and the other guests at the party cheered and applauded with the arrival of their captain. Bones’ grin was a mile wide as he stepped out from behind the bar to give Jim a massive hug. “Thought you’d never make it down.”

“What happened to your uniform?” Jim asked, voice muffled by Bones’ shoulder against his face.

“Oh, I took that off hours ago,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“I see that,” Jim said slowly, “but _why_?”

“Didn’t need it when I’m tending bar.” He pulled at the neck of his sleeveless shirt. “Mint julep?”

“No. Bones. No. Focus, okay? I need you to focus.”

“I am hella focused.” He hopped back to the bar -- _why in the hell was there a bar in sickbay_ \-- and held up a drink. “I think this might be the best julep I’ve ever made from replicated booze. It tastes almost real! Try it. I promise you’ll like it.”

Jim clenched his jaw. “Doctor, you are on _duty_.”

McCoy furrowed his brow at the same time that he laughed. “Aw hell, Jim, don’t be so miserable! Everything’s great.”

Jim stared for a moment before flipping open his communicator. “Captain’s log, supplemental. _Doctor McCoy_ just informed _me_ , unironically, that I don’t need to be so miserable. Please note this fact in the official record of this incident for repeated future reference.”

Bones grinned at him, chuckling quietly. “Now that’s funny,” he said matter-of-factedly.

Jim stepped forward and took the drink out of McCoy’s hand, setting it aside before gripping at his arms. “Okay. Bones. Focus, now. Were you involved in the inquiry into the flower’s potential for healing properties?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bones said easily. “I was called in after Chapel. Why?” His hands found Jim’s waist and pulled him in fluidly; Jim started and swatted his hands away, and Bones looked distantly hurt.

“We’re _on duty_ ,” he said for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Bones shrugged, hugging his arms to himself. “And?”

Jim covered his face with his hands. “Okay. Bones. What did you find out about the flower?”

Bones looked only fleetingly thoughtful, the smile returning quickly to his features. It was weird. Jim was weirded out. “Nothing worth mentioning,” he said too idly, too charmingly.

“Really! Nothing worth mentioning. Nothing that might heal all this or anything?” He waved a finger around sickbay.

“Oh, well, no,” Bones said, giving Jim a strange expression. “I mean, it’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?”

“Okay. Stop. Explain that.”

“Well, why would the flower heal the thing that it does?”

“And what is that thing that it does.”

“You’ll have to ask Sulu about that, I don’t really get plants. Hey, Sulu!” he called into the party, and others echoed the summons. Soon Sulu was pushing himself through the crowd, grinning broadly and palming one of Bones’ mint juleps.

“Captain!” he proclaimed. “So glad you’ve finally joined us. We were getting worried.”

Jim slipped on his most charming smile. “Well, Sulu it was just a matter of time. You and Bones do all this?”

“Yeah!” Sulu was pumped. “The party just sort of settled in here, since this is where the action is.”

“The action. The plant.”

“The very same. We’ve shown it to almost everyone. Where’s Chekov? He should be down here.”

“He’s on his way,” Kirk lied breezily, ignoring Bones’ scrutinous gaze. “How does the plant even work, anyway? What does it actually do?”

“Oh! It’s pretty straightforward, actually. I call it the Omicron. I came up with that myself.” He grinned at Kirk, who nodded along enthusiastically. “It’s a pod plant,” Sulu continued after a moment of pretended mutual appreciation of Sulu’s botanical genius, “with living spores inside. They reproduce asexually, get their nutrition from plant energy in kind of a symbiotic relationship. You get close enough to the plant and it ejects the spores, they settle into your system, and then this happens.” He beckoned around the room. “Everyone’s happy! Best plant ever.”

“ _Totally,_ ” Jim agreed. “Well, thanks for bringing it on board, Sulu. That was a _great_ move.”

“My pleasure, cap’n!” Sulu chirped, saluting Jim. “Hey Leo, this is a _great_ fucking drink,” Sulu congratulated Bones.

“Damn straight, son,” Bones returned, slapping Sulu on the shoulder as he tugged at Jim’s arm. “I’m just gonna talk to the captain in my office for a few minutes. You can hold down the fort, right?”

“Aw yes I can! Party central!” Sulu grinned and bobbed his head happily. “You two have fun,” he said with a wink, and Jim’s smile somehow managed to become even more forced as he followed Bones into their office.

“Now Jim, you know I’d do any damn thing for you, but I don’t like the way you’re lying to Sulu,” Bones told him once the door was closed.

“I have to fix this,” Jim told him quickly.

“Fix what? I’ve never been happier! _We’ve_ never been happier than we are since the Omicron.” Bones spread his arms wide and gave a short laugh, and Jim scrutinized him carefully.

“Look at yourself! You’re a disaster, Bones! The whole ship is a disaster. Between this party and the fact that Spock and Uhura are getting busy in her quarters despite being on shift--”

“Is that where they went?” Bones gave an appreciative chuckle. “Good for them. They deserve more time alone together, don’t you think?”

Jim shut his eyes to try and maintain his calm. “I don’t suppose you know anything about how to undo this process?” he asked briskly.

“That’s the best thing about it, Jim boy,” Bones elucidated. “There’s nothing to be done! Once you’ve got the spores, you keep the spores. They’re part of you! They feed off your positive energy in the same way they lived off the plant’s energy. Lifelong euphoria. Who doesn’t want that?”

“Me!” Jim said angrily. “I don’t want that! You’re all slacking off! We can’t run a ship without a good focused crew! We’re dead in the water, Bones!”

“Who needs anything more than what we have right here? Who wants to run a ship, _really?_ ”

“Me!!” Jim said again, more fervently. “And you, formerly! Remember when you used to be a doctor?”

“I’m still a doctor,” Bones said seriously, and Jim thought he’d gotten through; but then the grin split wide across his face. “Just call me Doctor Julep, darlin’.” He held up his glass in cheers.

“God,” Jim spat, turning to leave; but Bones was too swift and caught his elbow.

“Hey, now, Jim boy,” Bones crooned. “Why don’t you come have a look at the pod?”

“Why don’t I actually _never do that?_ ” Jim shot back.

“You don’t want to be the only miserable person left on this damned ship, do you?”

“You’re trying to manipulate me into being willingly intoxicated by something that removes all your drive to ever do anything useful. Okay. It happened. Today got worse.”

Bones gave an expression of concern and tried to wrap Jim up in his arms, but Jim gave a noise of disgust and pushed Bones away, sending him staggering backward across the office with a lost expression on his face. “No, Leonard. I want absolutely nothing the fuck to do with you this way. You’re not you. I don’t want this.”

Jim turned to go, but something in Bones’ face gave him pause. He watched as the slow expression of devastation crossed over his features -- and then developed into something else. Bones blinked repeatedly in a way that reminded him of awakening; and then his features reflected something vaguely resembling mild horror. “Oh, god,” he said to Jim.

“Bones? Are you back?”

Bones’ face contorted as he familiarized himself with his mental inventory. “Unfortunately, I think I am.” 

“Holy shit. It’s good to see you, Bones.” Jim exhaled, leaned against the nearest wall. “Thank you. Thank you for coming through. Oh my god. I was starting to think I was the problem.”

“I don’t think I’m to thank,” he said slowly, blinking at Jim a few more times before his eye caught on movement on the other side of the one-way glass of the CMO’s office. “Oh my _god!_ ” he repeated, beholding the party.

“Yep!” Jim said sardonically.

“My sickbay!”

“Your party,” Jim responded delicately. “You’re cleaning this up.”

“Aw hell.” Bones ran a nervous hand through his hair. “And the whole ship’s like this?”

“Except whoever’s left on the Bridge.”

“Ah -- no.” Bones turned to meet Jim’s eye nervously. “No … they’re probably done now too.”

Jim shut his eyes in exasperation. “Someone took the pod for a walk?”

“Rand might have taken that task upon herself, yeah,” Bones replied.

Jim took a steadying breath. “Okay, Doctor Julep. You’re coming with me. We have to get Spock.”

Bones’ face crumpled with the memory of Jim telling him where Spock was and what he was doing, and Jim knew that Bones was definitely back. “Do we really?”

“Yes. We have to figure out what actually broke you.”

“Well, I can tell you that,” Bones replied. “Think it was you rejecting me.”

Jim frowned. “Sorry, Bones,” he said quickly.

“I deserved it,” Bones snorted back. “Point being, the spores keep you content, hedonistic -- and complacent. Break the complacency, break the connective relationship. Seemed to have been the trick with me, anyway.”

Jim nodded appreciatively. “Fucking good to have you back, Bones. Five minutes ago you were telling me there wasn’t a cure.”

“I believed it, then.” Bones strode forward to grab his medkit from his desk, and Bones raised his eyebrows with a sudden realization. “I am not sober, Jim.”

“I know,” Jim replied, “but your drunk ass is still more sensible than most sober people the majority of the time as it is. I need an ally, Bones. You’ll do.”

Bones shrugged and nodded, and they slipped unnoticed away from sickbay and the cocktail party toward the lift.

\-----

So after Jim had, at long last, gotten Uhura to open the door to her quarters, Jim had stepped forward, swept her fluidly into his arms, and -- upon checking her blissful gaze for nonverbal agreement -- kissed her right in Spock’s line of vision. This had had the desired effect of getting Spock’s blood boiling high enough to punch Jim in the face -- again -- and then, naturally, Jim had punched Spock back to get Uhura’s adrenaline high enough to break from her spore-induced spell, too.

He had not accounted for the second punch in the face from Uhura herself, and had lain flat on the floor while Bones stepped in to hold Spock and Uhura back. "I hate today so much," he said to the ceiling.

“I would apologize for striking you,” now-sober Spock intoned dryly moments later as Bones applied the dermal regenerator to a laceration on Spock’s jaw, “but I feel strangely unrepentant.”

“I’m actually still waiting for _my_ apology,” Uhura commanded from where she leaned authoritatively against the wall.

“I’m aware I crossed a line,” Jim replied, “but I needed my two best officers to stop _boning on the job,_ ” he said pointedly. “I am honestly sorry, Uhura, but I needed you both back with me and alert in the most efficient way possible. This was that, without a doubt. I wasn’t making a move. You know we’re beyond that.”

“Hmm,” she replied. “So close to accepting responsibility.”

He grunted low in his throat. “I’ll make it up to the both of you by waiving all disciplinary actions for your coital rendezvous while still on shift. How’s that sound?”

Spock tinged faintly green, and Uhura kicked her boot at the ground. “Fine,” she bit eventually. “And also sorry about that. But _we_ were under the influence! What’s your excuse?”

“The Enterprise has stopped moving altogether since the pod made its way to the Bridge and I need for the ship to be doing something other than stagnate in the middle of midspace-nowhere?”

Spock’s jaw clenched. “So kissing Nyota was an act of desperation.”

“Yes, I can safely say total desperation is the only circumstance in which I would kiss Nyota.”

Uhura raised an eyebrow. “So you’d only kiss me if you were _desperate_?”

Jim stared and raised a hand aloft in confusion. “I’m pretty sure I can’t win here.”

“I’m going to save myself the fifteen minutes of torture involved in listening to the culmination of this conversation and announce that Spock is ready to go, even though he’s not. We need a plan of action,” Bones reminded them.

“People need a shock to their system -- something breaking of complacency, preferably involving negative emotion -- to snap out of the spore trance,” Jim told Spock, looking at him with a deferent gaze. “Any ideas on what we can communicate ship-wide that would have that effect?”

Spock considered the puzzle for a moment with a raised eyebrow. “I have an idea,” he offered eventually, “but I prefer to work with Nyota.”

“Fine,” Kirk said, waving a dismissive hand. “But if you start making time on the job again, I’ll fire both your unprotected asses into open space without a second thought.”

\-----

Bones may not have been under the influence of the spores anymore, but he remained thoroughly under the influence of alcohol; and after they’d returned to the Bridge to find it completely abandoned, Jim found himself in a rather compromising position of profound hypocrisy as Bones’ cursory examination of Jim’s battle wounds turned quickly into an inspired make-out session in the captain’s chair -- which in turn was interrupted by the return of Spock and Uhura.

“We programmed the shipwide hailing frequency to broadcast a subsonic dissonance,” Spock intoned with an air of extreme cynicism. “It is expected to gradually irritate the crew until they are able to break free of the influence of the spores.”

“We’re taking the rest of the day off,” Uhura informed Jim stonily, “and you and I are not on casual speaking terms until further notice.”

“Take the weekend,” he waved at them breathily, looking at them upside down from his position in the chair while Bones nipped at his neck.

Uhura didn’t bother to wait for the lift doors to close before walking Spock backward against the wall; and Jim swore he caught a glimpse of the Omicron pod set at their feet.

\-----

Within three hours, Jim had his very sheepish crew back in full force, and the Enterprise was on its way to report on the potential for settlement on Omicron Ceti III -- which was to say, _approach with extreme caution_ \-- to the Federation.

He sat back in his chair and smiled lightly as he watched his crew perform their duties, and thought fondly, _Who needs Omicron when you could have this?_

Jim bit into an apple and hailed sickbay. "How's the cleanup going, Doctor Julep?" he asked airily.

"You could come and help me instead of sounding smug, you know," Bones replied.

Jim grinned. "Aw, hell, Bones, don't be so miserable!"

Bones recognized his own words from earlier that evening, and ended the communication with an inaudible mutter under his breath that sounded as though it included the word 'bastard'.

Jim smiled to himself and soaked in his surroundings. It had turned out to be a pretty good day after all.


End file.
